


extracurriculars

by Anonymous



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Desk Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot Twists, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Sexual Roleplay, Teacher/Student Roleplay, Top Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), except not really, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 05:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29712219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: The brunet smiles wolfishly. His arm is braced high in the doorframe, the hem of his shirt lifting to reveal the sharp line of his hip, dipping down below his jeans. “Hi professor,” George greets nonchalantly. “I had a quick question.”Though he wasn'tfailing,per se, George wanted to raise his grade any way he could.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 427
Collections: Anonymous





	extracurriculars

It’s late at night, much later than Dream should be staying at work, and yet he continues to slave away under lamplight at his desk, revising the corrections and marking done by his TA for his course’s most recent assignment.

In an odd sense, it was calming, creating ticks and lines and writing short notes in the margins of his students’ work, but he  _ really  _ shouldn’t be in his office so late.

A quiet knock on his doorframe sounds through the room. Dream doesn’t spare a glance towards the visitor, instead continuing his work. 

“I thought I said to email me ahead of time if office hours were inconvenient,” Dream says to whoever was leaning in his doorway. He scribbles one last correction down on a student’s paper, and moves it to his completed pile. 

“I know,” a familiar voice says, “but I didn’t think you’d exactly mind.”

Dream sets his pen down, and looks to the door. “George.”

The brunet smiles wolfishly. His arm is braced high in the doorframe, the hem of his shirt lifting to reveal the sharp line of his hip, dipping down below his jeans. “Hi professor,” George greets nonchalantly. “I had a quick question.”

Suddenly, the thought of continuing to correct work was pushed to the very back of Dream’s mind, completely disregarded as his eyes scanned over every perfect inch of George. Dream quirks an eyebrow.

“What about?” He inquires.

George shrugs, dropping his arm to his side as he strode up to Dream, closing the door behind him. “About my grades,” he says. “I thought I had been doing so well in your class, but… my  _ B  _ says otherwise. I was wondering if there was any way for me to maybe… make up for it? Maybe bump my grade up?”

Dream huffs out a laugh. “And what do you propose?”

George moves to sit on Dream’s desk despite the college professor’s noises of protest, but Dream makes no physical effort to stop the brunet. George crosses one leg over the other, a delicate hand resting on his knee as he leans close to Dream.

“What about some sort of… extracurricular?” George suggests. A jolt of electricity shoots up Dream’s spine, and a heat pools in his stomach.

“Extracurricular?” Dream echoes. “What kind of extracurricular were you thinking?”

George traces a finger up Dream’s shoulder, his neck, and up to his jaw. George takes Dream’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, and tilts Dream’s head upward to meet his eyes, which were dark with desire. “I think you know what I’m thinking,” George whispers, voice low and raspy. Dream swallows.

“Oh,” Dream replies dumbly. 

George grins.  _ “Oh,” _ he mimics. “So what do you say, prof?”

Dream’s gaze briefly flickers to George’s pink lips, soft and waiting, before he’s back to looking deep into the brunet’s expectant eyes. “I don’t quite think I understand what you mean, George.”

George leans down to press his lips against Dream’s, lustful and enthusiastic. Dream brings a hand to George’s jaw, a thumb brushing over his cheek. Dream doesn’t meet the brunet with any resistance.

“I think you know  _ exactly  _ what I mean,” George says against Dream’s mouth.

“Why don’t you show me, then?” Dream asks. “Just to make sure.”

George bites a swollen bottom lip, eyelids low as he looks down on Dream. A smile tugs at the corners of his mouth. “Gladly.”

George slides off the desk and kneels on the floor before Dream. Dream’s cock strains uncomfortably against the fabric of his boxers, his slacks. His green eyes are wide as he observes George’s graceful movements, as his hands drift towards Dream’s belt.

He palms at Dream’s crotch with one hand and begins to unbuckle Dream’s belt with his other. Dream has to suppress a moan, bracing his hands on the hard plastic of the arms of his office chair. George loosens the belt with ease, and Dream lifts his hips to allow the brunet to slide his pants down just far enough for access to his aching cock.

“George,” Dream says, breathless. “This is… this is really unprofessional.”

George gives him a devilish look. “Then why aren’t you stopping me?”

Dream is silent, mostly for a lack of response. If George was offering, who was Dream to stop him? He looked so pretty on his knees, below Dream, in the warm glow of the lamplight. George always looked pretty.

George’s hand dips below the hem of Dream’s boxers, and pulls out Dream’s cock. The head is pink and impatient, already leaking with pre-come.

“Wow, professor,” George admires. “You’re  _ so hard, _ just for me. Do I turn you on, professor? Do I?”

Dream nods shyly. “You always turn me on, George,” Dream admits. “Seeing how pretty you look taking notes, and listening to my lectures. So,  _ so  _ pretty.”

George begins stroking a hand up and down the shaft of Dream’s cock, slow and tantalizing.  _ Tormenting _ . Dream shudders.

“I bet you’d like seeing my pretty lips wrapped around your cock, wouldn’t you?” George teases. “You’d like that, professor,  _ wouldn’t you?” _

Dream nods again, much more firmly this time. “I would, George,” he groans. “I’d _love_ that.”

George hums, and licks his lips. His hand abandons Dream’s cock, and while Dream mourns the contact at first, George bracing his hands on Dream’s legs and spreading them, licking a stripe up the underside of his dick more than makes up for it.

George swirls his tongue around the head of Dream’s cock. He looks up at Dream as he does it with wide, prideful eyes, and Dream moans, loud and lewdly at the mere sight of him. Dream was more than glad the door was shut, and that it was more than late enough that there shouldn’t have been many others in the building to hear the offensive noises George coaxed from him.

George wastes no time taking Dream’s entire cock down his throat, lips wrapping around at the base as he begins to bob up and down the length of Dream’s dick. A large hand runs through George’s hair and pulls as George continues to explore Dream’s cock with his tongue.

“George,” Dream pants, and then again, when George doesn’t pause,  _ “George.” _

After a third time of not listening, Dream tugs hard on George’s hair, and his mouth releases from Dream’s cock with a soft  _ pop!  _ as he looks up at Dream, eyebrows drawn together and a slight pout on his face. His lips are wet with spit, and he looks absolutely  _ sinful. _

_ “What?” _

“Let me fuck you,” Dream says. “Over the desk.”

George seems mildly surprised, and rather excited at the idea. “Will it give me a better chance at an A?”

Dream chuckles, low and deep in his throat. “You are  _ such  _ an idiot.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” George says, sitting back on his heels. Dream’s cock still sat flushed and wanting, but he wished for nothing more than to fuck George’s pretty little ass in half over his desk, so he could stand to suffer if only for a moment.

“Yes,” Dream replies. “Let’s say it would.”

George pushes off his knees and stands. He leans forward, placing his hands on Dream’s thighs, pressing his fingers into the flesh. They’re close, George’s breath hot against Dream’s skin as he says, “Then do your worst, professor.”

Dream pushes away as George waits patiently, and unhelpful. Dream slides the papers as far to the side as he could without knocking everything off his desk, and opens the bottom drawer closest to his right. In the back sat a box of condoms and a travel-size bottle of lube, which Dream pulls out eagerly, never more grateful to have them than at that moment.

“Have you been waiting for this?” George asks. Dream can hear the amusement in his tone, can hear the smile in his voice.

“Maybe I have,” Dream mumbles. “Would you rather I not have anything?”

Dream can hear the quiet  _ clink!  _ of George’s belt buckle as he presumably undoes it in order to shed his own clothing. George hums thoughtfully. “Well that wouldn’t be safe, now would it, professor?”

“That’s what I thought,” Dream says. He stands from his chair, and pushes it aside. He orders George, “Hands on the desk.”

George follows his instructions without hesitance, arching his back to stick out his ass more than necessary. Dream laughs, before he hooks his thumbs under the hem of George’s jeans and briefs, and pulls them down. Dream follows close behind with his own clothing. 

George throws Dream a glance over his shoulder. “Taking your sweet time?”

“So what if I am?” Dream says. “Be patient.”

George snaps his mouth shut, setting his gaze back on the surface of the desk. Dream rolls on a condom then squeezes lube onto his fingers. George lets out a quiet gasp as Dream inserts two fingers into his hole, both in shock at the sudden movement and the cold temperature of the lube.

Dream begins to slowly work George open, spreading and curling his fingers inside the brunet before eventually adding a third. George cries out as Dream skims his prostate.

“Dr— _ professor,”  _ George moans. “F-fuck. Want you… want you inside me.  _ Now,  _ professor.”

“What did I just say about being patient?” Dream scolds. “I’m not done.”

“I don’t fucking care,” George swears.  _ “Now.” _

Dream sighs, but removes his fingers anyways, and lines up the tip of his cock with George’s hole. He digs his fingers into George’s hips, harsh enough to surely leave bruises, though he knew George would never complain. He’d brandish them like a trophy if given the chance.

Dream presses in slowly, George whimpering at the new presence within him. Dream bottoms out before he begins to thrust in and out. The desk creaks under George’s weight as it shifts with every movement.

The professor gradually increases pace and force as George begs,  _ harder, professor, harder.  _ George groans, chest pressed against the wood, arms stretched and hands curled around the far edge of the desk as Dream railed into him.

“So… so  _ good,  _ professor,” George mumbles. “So fucking good.”

“Just for you, George,” Dream says.  _ “Only _ for you.”

“I’d sure— _ ah,”  _ George moans as Dream brushes his prostate. “Right… right there,” he pants.

Dream continues to rock into George, now continuously hitting his prostate. George’s knees buckled, struggling to keep upright as Dream fucked him relentlessly, without stop.

“Professor, I—” George stammers. “‘M gonna—”

“Not yet,” Dream growls. “Not ‘til I say you can.”

“But _ Dream,”  _ George whines.  _ “Professor.” _

“Not.  _ Yet,”  _ Dream repeats. He leans close to George’s ear, chest pressed against George’s back. “You want that A, don’t you?”

George whimpers, nodding. 

“Then you  _ wait,”  _ Dream commands. George nods again.

Dream continues thrusting into George at a steady pace until he closes in on his own climax. George’s hand wraps tighter around the edge of the desk, white-knuckled. 

“Professor, I can’t… I can’t…”

Dream leans close to George again, his breath causing goosebumps to raise up George’s neck alongside a dusty pink blush. “Go ahead,” he whispers.

George shudders as he comes across the desk, legs nearly giving out. Dream finishes inside George not long after, finally loosening his grip on George’s hips. He pulls out and peels off his condom, disregarding it in the trash bin he kept underneath his desk. Both their chests heave as they catch their breath.

George shakily pushes himself upwards, and starts redressing. Dream ghosts a hand over his shoulder, down his arm as George’s back is to him. “You couldn’t have waited until we got home?”

George shrugs. A quaint smile toys on his lips as he turns to face Dream. “Guess not,” he says. “You looked too good tonight. Couldn’t resist.”

“Clearly,” Dream snorts. He redresses himself, messily tucking his button up back into his slacks. 

“What?” George asks. “Am I not allowed to get fucked by my boyfriend at our workplace?”

Dream laughs, shaking his head.  _ “You,  _ professor Davidson, are a handful.”

George leans up to capture Dream in a loving kiss, slow and sweet like honey. George grins as he pulls away. “That’s  _ doctor  _ Davidson to you.”

Dream sighs. He traces a gentle finger down George’s jaw. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “Let me clean up, then we can go home, alright?”

“Of course,” George says. “Take your time. I have to recuperate before round two, anyways.”

Dream raises an eyebrow. “Round two?”

George hums. He appears to be biting back a smile. “Unless you’re opposed to it, of course.”

Dream drapes his arms over George’s shoulders, pulling him close. He presses a kiss to the brunet’s hair, resting his chin on George’s head. “Guess you might need the break, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> let me know what you think :)


End file.
